


You're Gonna Have A Braid Time

by ourheart



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Chara Is A Tsundere Nerd, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Non-Binary Chara, Non-Binary Frisk, Post-Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ourheart/pseuds/ourheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Chara made the greatest faces when they were battling hair tangles.</i>
</p><p>In which Chara has pretty hair, and Frisk gets ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Gonna Have A Braid Time

**Author's Note:**

> Written by Dearheart.
> 
> My first-ever Undertale fic! It's nothing brilliant or deep, but...enjoy the fluff...?

Chara made the greatest faces when they were battling hair tangles.

Eyes glaring in the mirror, mouth twisting, nose wrinkling up and pinching all the freckles together. (Frisk liked the nose thing the best.) Sometimes Chara would make tiny growling noises through their teeth when they ran into a particularly stubborn knot. And they _always_ wielded their hairbrush like they were cutting through uncharted jungle territory. It would’ve been painful to watch if their faces weren’t so amusing.

The tangles were getting more frequent now. Chara hadn’t had a haircut in a long time.

Frisk liked the longer hair. It was more fun to run their fingers through it while they zoned out watching cartoons, both of them sprawled in a pile on the couch with Asriel. That was the only time Chara would ever let either of them touch it.

Frisk couldn’t help staring at it longingly as the two of them finished washing up for bed. Chara’s hair was well past their shoulders now (tied back in a careless ponytail, like always); and under the bright bathroom light, the color of it shone – a warm, rich, wonderful auburn that reminded Frisk of violins and cinnamon-apple cider.

“Your hair is so _pretty_ ,” they sighed.

Chara blinked and raised an incredulous eyebrow, toothbrush shoved in their mouth; then snorted and continued brushing. “Um,” they mumbled through the toothpaste, a hint of a blush creeping over their freckles. “Sure. Whatever you say, weirdo…”

“It’s true!” Frisk insisted, fidgeting with a hair elastic. “And at this length, you could do so many things with it…”

“Don’t know, don’t care.” Chara leaned over, loudly spat in the sink and wiped a hand over their mouth. “As long as it stays out of my face, that’s all that matters.”

Frisk felt a lightbulb go off in their head and they smiled, grabbing a comb off the counter and twirling it in their fingers. “I could show you _lots_ of cool ways to keep it out of your face.”

Chara stared back in mild horror. “Heck. No.”

“C’mon, it would be fun!”

“You are _not_ messing with my hair, Frisk…”

“Just let me braid it, at least? _Please?_ ” Frisk gave them their best puppy-eyes. “You’d look so cute with braids…”

“No!”

“Why not?”

Chara huffed in exasperation. “Why are you so obsessed with doing my hair right now?”

Frisk shrugged, raising their hands in a defensive I-don’t-know gesture. “I just think your hair is awesome, and playing with hair is really fun, and I haven’t had anyone to practice on since… since…um…”

They faltered and trailed off, swallowing back the name on their lips.

Chara’s eyebrows furrowed. “Since…?”

Frisk didn’t reply. Their hands dropped to their sides and they fidgeted with the elastic again, fighting to push down the sudden ache in their chest and the memory of soft, dark curls running through their fingers…

“Frisk? What’s wrong?”

“N-Nothing,” Frisk stammered, shaking themself and fumbling for the drawer under the sink. “Nevermind…”

Chara looked at them in growing concern. “Seriously, what’s wrong?”

“You’re right,” said Frisk, shoving the comb in the drawer and closing it. “It’s a stupid idea, I…shouldn’t have pushed it. I’m sorry.”

“Hold on, I didn’t…I never said it was…ugh.” Chara sighed and closed their eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s okay!” Frisk reassured them, smile firmly back in place. “Don’t worry about it. It wasn’t anything you said, I promise. I’m just…really tired, that’s all.” They yawned in emphasis and brushed past, lifting their arms in a small stretch, bunny slippers padding towards the bathroom door. “I’m gonna go ahead and sleep. See you in the morning, nerd.”

“O…kay? Goodnight, then?”

Frisk headed down the hallway to their shared bedroom. They could feel the suspicion in Chara’s eyes, following them. They were too busy counting down from ten to care.

After climbing into bed, they allowed themself one minute to bury their face in the pillow and let the aching feeling run its course. Then they turned back again, determination summoned, and counted and recounted every glowing star on the ceiling until Toriel came to kiss them goodnight.

-:-

The next Saturday morning was a nice, slow, sleepy one. Asriel was still snoring upstairs. The TV was tuned in on a wildlife documentary. Frisk and Chara sat side-by-side on the couch and watched, swirling spoons around in their bowls and letting the last few cheerios turn soggy.

Chara lost interest in theirs and set the bowl aside on the coffee table. Frisk lifted their own bowl to their lips and drank all the rest of the milk, letting out a vivacious burp when they finished.

“Nice one,” observed Chara.

Frisk bowed dramatically in their seat. “Thank you.”

“Hey.”

“Mm?”

“I, uh…” Chara looked down, picking at a bandaid on one of their fingers. “Do you still want to… braid my hair?”

Frisk raised their eyebrows for a moment, surprised…and then a small smile tugged at their lips. “That depends. Do _you_ want me to?”

Chara made a funny noise in the back of their throat and jerked one of their shoulders in an awkward half-shrug. “Well,” they mumbled, “I-I mean…it couldn’t hurt to just _try_ it, I guess…”

Frisk’s face lit up in joy and they threw their arms around their blushing friend. “Chara, you’re an _angel!_ ”

“Wha…I’m n…ack, okay, _okay_ ,” Chara spluttered, making half-hearted attempts to squirm out of the hug. “Just _please_ , for the love of god, no bows or frills or anything else ridiculous? Please?”

Frisk let go, grinning. “No bows, no ridiculousness. No problem.” They scrambled off the couch and dashed away to hunt for a comb. “Besides,” they called over their shoulder, “I have something better in mind for you!”

Five minutes later, they returned and plopped back on the couch – armed with _two_ combs in their teeth, several elastics on their wrist, a handmirror, and a fistfull of bobby pins. They coaxed Chara to sit in front of them on the floor, and carefully pulled out the hairband to let their hair fall loose around their shoulders. (Frisk made a mental note suggest some conditioner later.)

“I think…two dutch braids?” they murmured. “And then pull ‘em back in a…hmm.” They began to run the larger comb through Chara’s hair in steady strokes, mulling over the process in their head. “I hope I remember how to do this…”

“I don’t need anything fancy,” Chara protested.

“Calm down,” chuckled Frisk, “it’s not that complicated. It’s just been a while since I’ve attempted this. But don’t worry, you won’t be…stuck _hair_ for long.”

“Frisk, no. Puns are _my_ job.”

“Just try to grin and _barrette_ for me, okay?”

“Oh my _god…_ ”

After throwing a few more terrible puns at each other, Frisk set aside the comb and got down to business. It didn’t take long for their fingers to fall into the familiar pattern…cross under, gather, cross under, gather…the rhythm of it felt soothing.

Chara, on the other hand, held themself like they were tied hostage to a pole – stiff and silent, breathing shallow.

Frisk continued braiding, but they said softly, “Relax. You don’t need to try so hard to keep still.”

Chara dropped their shoulders, though they were still stiff. “Sorry.”

“You’re alright, Chara. Don’t worry about anything, just…trust me and relax.” Frisk leaned over to gather in some of the longer bangs, fingertips lightly brushing over their creased forehead. “Let my hands do all the work, and let your mind float off. You’re okay.”

Chara didn’t answer, but a few seconds later, Frisk heard them let out a quiet sigh. Little by little, the tension left their shoulders. By the time Frisk tied off the left braid and started on the right, Chara was chewing their nails and lost in the TV screen, watching lions chase zebras.

Frisk let some of the shorter bangs hang free, to frame Chara’s face. After finishing the braids, they gathered all the hair together in a low ponytail, tying it comfortably loose at the base of Chara’s neck and pinning in a few loops for a rough messy bun. Some tweaks here, some tugs there, a few scattered strands pulled out to make it all look artfully disheveled, and at last…

“Done!” Frisk exhaled and leaned away, studying their handiwork.

Chara shook themself and glanced back. “Did you say something?”

“Yep. I’m all finished.” Frisk handed them the mirror and smiled, nervous. “Ta-daa.”

Chara peered at their reflection, also nervous…and their eyes widened. Wordlessly, they turned their head to one side, and then the other, and reached up with reverent fingers to touch the braids encircling their head. “Whoa…”

“Do you like it?”

“I…how did you _do_ that?” they breathed.

Frisk giggled. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

“No really, how did you do that?”

“Magic.”

“Come _on_ ,” laughed Chara. “You had to learn it from _somewhere_.”

Frisk put up their well-rehearsed mental wall, let the question bounce off them; and they shook their head, playful. “Mm-mmm! A magician never reveals their secrets.”

“You’re such a nerd.”

“Haha, speak for yourself.”

Chara rolled their eyes and turned back to the mirror. Their expression softened into wonder again. “It…really looks amazing,” they murmured.

“Good!” said Frisk. “I tried to give you something that wasn’t too fancy _or_ too casual. And you could wear any kind of outfit with that hairstyle and still look cool, y’know?”

“Yeah.” A slow, awed smile came to Chara’s lips. “It’s…I look…”

“ _Beautiful_ ,” finished Frisk, leaning over their friend’s shoulder to beam at their reflection.

“Psh.” Chara’s face flushed for the umpteenth time and they put the mirror down, muttering incoherent denials under their breath.

But, much to Frisk’s satisfaction, the smile was still there. And it stayed there for a long time.

**Author's Note:**

> LET! THESE CHILDREN!! BE HAPPY!!! UGH!!!! ~~I say as I open a new word document and proceed to angst all over everything...~~
> 
> (btw if you're curious, here's [some](http://media2.popsugar-assets.com/files/2014/03/12/676/n/1922153/a6876e162ae10960_0f708d0aa9f511e38d280e608e7a733c_8.jpg.xxxlarge/i/Braided-Messy-Bun.jpg) [pics](http://missysue.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/11/two-dutch-braids-low-messy-bun-ft.png) of the hairstyle Frisk did for Chara.) Eissibee and I both agreed that there aren't enough fluffy Frisk/Chara stories out there, so we started our own personal Fluff War to remedy this problem. ~~aaand from there it just spiraled into a chaotic mess of fluff/angst queerplatonic fic in general, oops...~~
> 
> I did put a glimpse of my personal HC backstory for Frisk in this fic, so I apologize if it confused anyone. In my version, Frisk lived with someone cruel, AND someone who was kind. And stuff happened. _Maybe_ I'll be brave enough to post it someday...


End file.
